


the best view

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac finds strange places to fall asleep and Combeferre is so incredibly fond of his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the best view

It's nearly three o'clock in the morning and Courfeyrac is sprawled out under the coffee table, snoring softly. Combeferre puts his book down, having just finished it, and stares at him for a long moment, struggling to keep the fond smile off his face.

Not that there's really any need to. Everyone else is asleep and most of their friends have crowded into either Enjolras or Combeferre's bed. Bahorel is sleeping on the couch with Jehan lying on top of him and Marius has curled up into a ball on their single-seater. Which leaves Combeferre, sitting on the carpeted floor with his back to the wall, and Courfeyrac under the table. 

Without the book to distract him, Combeferre begins to realise two things: he is so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open, and it's uncomfortably cold. He sighs, getting to his feet and walking over to the linen closet to grab a spare blanket for himself. He pauses, then grabs one for Courfeyrac too. Bahorel, Jehan and Marius all seem to have had the sense to wrap themselves with blankets before falling asleep. Of course, Courfeyrac did not.

"Hey," Combeferre whispers, kneeling by the table and placing his hand on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "Courfeyrac."

Courfeyrac doesn't respond. Of course he doesn't. He's fast asleep and Combeferre doesn't even know what made him decide to lie down under the table for long enough to fall asleep there anyway. Courfeyrac is so ridiculous and Combeferre has to bite his lip and chuckle to himself because he's so ridiculously in love. It's quiet moments like these, where nobody else can see, that makes Combeferre not mind so much. It doesn't matter that he loves one of his best friends in a way that isn't reciprocated, he doesn't love to be loved in return. He loves Courfeyrac for how caring he is, how he can brighten any room that he walks into, how he'll do his very best to cheer people up if they're in a bad mood. He loves Courfeyrac's bad jokes, his excitability, the way he insists on exaggerating things for comic effect. 

Okay, so Combeferre pretty much loves _everything_ about Courfeyrac. It's not really news to him.

"Courfeyrac," he tries again, a little louder this time, stroking his fingers through Courfeyrac's hair. 

"Mm," Courfeyrac hums, leaning into the touch. "Come to bed."

Combeferre laughs, shaking his head. "Come out from under there."

In response, Courfeyrac only hums again and goes back to sleep. Combeferre has been friends with Courfeyrac for long to know to pick his battles. With a quiet sigh, he carefully slides under the table as well so he's lying beside Courfeyrac and makes sure that they're both covered with the blankets. Courfeyrac sighs happily, shuffling closer, towards Combeferre's warmth. 

"Good night, you gorgeous, ridiculous man," Combeferre murmurs fondly, his heavy eyes already slipping shut.

:·:

Combeferre wakes up the next morning when he feels Courfeyrac stirring. Somehow as they slept, they'd wrapped their arms around each other and now, Courfeyrac's face is pressed against Combeferre's chest.

"Hi," Courfeyrac greets with a sleepy smile as he looks up. 

Combeferre gets a face full of hair and turns away with a smile that he isn't awake enough to hold back. "Good morning."

"We're sleeping under a table," Courfeyrac comments.

"Yes we are. Whose fault do you think that is?"

"Um." Courfeyrac barely pauses to think. "Yours."

Snorting quietly, Combeferre wraps his arm around Courfeyrac's shoulders so that they can lie beside each other more comfortably. "Try again."

"Nope, pretty sure it's your fault."

Combeferre raises an eyebrow, looking down at him. "Explain."

Courfeyrac laughs softly. "I love that you're actually giving me a chance to explain myself. I really, really love that."

Combeferre flushes, feeling pleased with himself. "Well, go on."

"It's all your fault because you were reading," Courfeyrac tells him, rolling onto his side and slinging his arm over Combeferre's waist. He points to where Combeferre's book is still sitting, by the wall. "You were sitting right there and you were completely lost in your book, like the rest of the world didn't even exist."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I wasn't being rude, it's just that the book—" Combeferre falls silent when Courfeyrac places a finger to his lips. 

"You weren't being rude, it's fine. Do you know that when you're concentrating on what you're doing, you get a crease between your brow right here?" Courfeyrac gently touches the tip of his finger to Combeferre's forehead. "And your tongue pokes out from between your lips. It's cute."

"Cute," Combeferre repeats. He's glad that with skin as dark as his, he doesn't blush easily because otherwise, he's sure that he'd be completely red. As it is, his ears feel a little warmer than usual.

"Yeah, cute," Courfeyrac replies. "And that's why I ended up under the table. I made sure that Marius, Jehan and Bahorel had blankets and then I was going to get a couple more for us, except this was the best place in the room where I could lie down and still see you and…"

"You were watching me read," Combeferre says uncertainly.

"Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds a bit creepy." Courfeyrac cringes. "I swear I wasn't being creepy. It's just that you're so gorgeous and—I'm so not awake enough to use my brain-to-mouth filter, am I? Damn it."

Combeferre laughs softly, tightening his grip on Courfeyrac and pulling him closer so that they can rest their foreheads against each other. "It's fine. And you weren't being creepy."

Courfeyrac rubs their noses together with a smile, tightening his grip on Combeferre in return. "Good. I'm glad."

Combeferre presses a kiss into Courfeyrac's hair and very quietly says, "I think you're gorgeous too."

They lie there, legs tangling as they hold each other close until Bahorel clears his throat loudly.

"Are you two done being disgustingly cute yet?" 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac both freeze. Combeferre had forgotten all about the possibility of the others being awake. He lifts his head as high as he can with the table above him to look around, but it looks like it's just Bahorel and Jehan so far. 

He doesn't let go of Courfeyrac, but manages a sheepish smile. "Yes, sorry."

"No," Courfeyrac replies at the same time.

"Actually, yeah," Combeferre reconsiders. "What Courfeyrac said. We're not done yet. I don't think we'll be done for a while."

Courfeyrac is beaming when they go right back to cuddling and Bahorel groans loudly. 

Despite Bahorel's protests, he quietly mutters something like, "It's about fucking time you worked it out."

Jehan laughs quietly and pokes Bahorel in the side, but Combeferre pays no attention to the tickle fight that ensues. He's much too busy cuddling Courfeyrac.


End file.
